I don't mind your stuff
by fra22
Summary: This takes place after 408, but here Justin didn't come back like in 409 to make Brian eat the chicken soup. Michael never explained to him the defense mechanism that Brian was using.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: It came to my attention that my previous title was unsuitable and as a result had my story removed. I apologize for the inconvenience it might have caused, especially to those of you who had this story in your favorites. I'm quite sad I lost your lovely comments but I learned my lesson and will be more careful from now on.**  
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so here is I don't mind your stuff previously know as I don't mind your shit.**  
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* * *

**I don't mind your shit.**

Waking in the middle of the night, having nothing else to do than think, can have its perks. That's how I come up last night with this:

Plot: This takes place after 408, but here Justin didn't come back like in 409 to make Brian eat the fucking chicken soup –that seems, somehow, to be some kind of a cure in QAF world.

Michael never explained to him the defense mechanism that Brian was using. I don't need to tell you, both men are a wreck without each other.

* * *

Brian went to the diner the following week. He walked directly to his target.

"Can we talk?"

"We have nothing to talk about."

"Come on."

Justin moved around the diner, unconsciously moving to a much restricted and less crowded area.

"Don't you, at least, want to know how I'm doing?"

"I know how you're doing. Michael told me. It's not because we're not together anymore that I don't care if you're okay."

"Look Justin, I …"

Justin only raised his eyebrows, eyes piercing into Brian's.

"I'm…I shouldn't have yelled at you."

"You bet your ass you shouldn't have."

"I was angry and…"

"And you kicked me out."

When Brian avoided his eyes, the blond continued.

"You humiliated me, Brian. We were partners and you didn't even tell me you were sick. You kicked me out, ignored me, and called me a stalker in front of your employees. You treated me like I was some crap sticking at the bottom of your shoes that you were trying to get rid of."

"I…"

"You hurt me Brian. You hurt me too much this time. When you physically removed me from your loft, you removed me from your life."

"Jus…"

"I can't deal with this anymore. I'm done. I still care about you; some part of me will probably always love you, but enough is enough. So, I still wish you well. I hope you'll be healthy again, soon."

"Look, just let me…"

"I have to go now. Take care of yourself Brian."

And with that he left a stunned Brian behind him.

* * *

A few days later, Lindsay showed up at the loft, bringing bagels.

"You look like shit. Partied all night?"

"Yeah, I had the time of my life", Brian sarcastically replied, remembering the night he spent sitting in front of the toilet, puking his guts out.

"I brought breakfast."

"Great!" , the man answered, a wave of nausea already assaulting him.

"So, are any of these helping?"

"Any of these what?"

"Drugs, booze, men?"

She went on when Brian raised an eyebrow, like he didn't know what she was talking about.

"I know Justin's gone."

"Stay out of it", Brian immediately cut her.

"I did. I waited days, hoping you'd have some balls", Brian snorted at that -no plural for him anymore-"and fix the problem yourself."

"There is no problem."

"No? So Justin suddenly decided he should stay away from you, just like that? One day he woke up and happily accepted you guys broke up?"

"He's better away from me."

"Oh yeah, definitely. Judging by the fact that he was devastated the last time I saw him, I'll say it's for the best too! You're an idiot!"

Now she was talking forcefully, locking eyes with him.

"Look, if you came all the way here to call me an idiot, you should have stayed home with my son."

"I don't know what happened, he refused to tell me, but the state he was in told me it wasn't his decision. And we can all say how much of an asshole you are to him, I'd have never thought even for one second that you could be the one dumping him; ever."

"He'll be alright."

"Eventually, yeah. He's strong. But I'm not sure I can say the same about you."

"Linds…"

"You love him. We all know that. You can't even hide it anymore. It's written all over your face. So please Brian, do something. You don't have to tell me what happened, but I'm sure whatever it is you guys will work it out. Both of you are miserable without each other."

"I'm dazzling!"

"You sure don't look dazzling to me! Go talk to him."

Brian waited a few seconds, his mask slowly slipping.

"I already did", he added in a whisper.

"You did? What did he say?"

"He didn't want to talk to me. He didn't even let me say anything. He stayed calm and said we were over; for good."

"I'm sure if you just…"

"He's angry, Linds and hurt. Frankly, I'd be too if I were him. I fucked up bad. Are we surprised?"

"Brian", she put a hand on his arm and added in the softest voice, "I'm sure there is something you can do to make him come back. He loves you."

"I don't know. It's probably better if…"

"If what? If you let him go? If he moves on? Will you say that too, when he'll show up with his new boyfriend? Because, trust me, it will happen, sooner or later. You know better than I do how special he is. No doubt he'll find someone. And what will you say then? No regrets? It's better that he's with someone else and I'm an old bitter man?"

"Fuck you. First, I'll never be old or bitter for that matter. Second, why you all think I'll be miserable without him? I don't need him. I was perfectly fine before I met him and…"

"That was _before_ you met him. And sorry to tell you that _again_, but you look miserable already. Now cut the crap and be a man. Win him back."

He pretended to be busy in the kitchen for a moment before revealing that he didn't know how to.

"You're a creative adman, I'm sure you'll think of something."

* * *

That night, Brian took his courage in both hands and dialed Justin's cell. Of course, he went straight to voicemail. The man decided not to debate if Justin was working or if his cellphone was off or if he was filtering his calls.

_Hey, it's me. Brian. Hum, listen… I found some of your things in the loft and packed them up for you. I thought you could use them, so… if you want, you can come and take them back to Daphne's... So, hum, what about tomorrow night? Around 8? Hum, okay. Bye._

When Brian hung up, he slid his hand of his face, shaking his head. His hand encircled his jaw when he took his index in his mouth and bit it. That was probably the crappiest voicemail he had ever left to anyone.

* * *

That night, Justin listened to his voicemails. When Brian's voice resonated in the phone, he held his breath. His heart clenched at his former lover's words and a single tear went down his cheek. It was over. He and Brian were over.

The following night, a nervous Brian checked the clock for the hundredth time. He wasn't coming.

He shouldn't be surprised after all. He was actually startled when he came home that day and saw that the box was still on the table. He thought that maybe Justin would prefer to avoid any confrontation and come to the loft when Brian was not there. The thing was that now Brian was more at home than he'd ever been before. He couldn't stay an entire day at work anymore. That's why he came back at 4 that day and had been restless ever since. From his bed, where he was lying, he listened to the empty loft, raising his head at every unexpected sound. "He's not coming", he repeated to himself.

He closed his eyes trying to get some rest but it was pointless. His mind continued to work. He craved for any kinda of drugs or drinks that could take his mind off. Unfortunately his fucking cancer wouldn't let him.

When he heard a soft knock on the door he sat down on the bed, waiting to see if it was his mind playing tricks. But no, the second knock confirmed him that his…guest had arrived. For a second he felt relieved but, as he walked to the door, he felt on edge again, like he'd never been before. That was it; what could be his ultimate alone time with Justin.

* * *

Justin waited, flexing his hands nervously. It wasn't a big deal. He was not going to make this a big deal. He was just going to walk into the loft and take his stuff like he more than once did before. It probably wasn't going to be heavy anyway. He didn't have a lot of stuff there. He couldn't even remember what he had left at the loft; some drawings maybe, some underwear. His toothbrush, some deodorant. He wondered if Brian packed that up too. It wasn't like he needed them anyway. He had everything in double between Brian's and Daphne's. The " 's" was killing him some times. He felt like he was taking advantage of all these people, dropping by unexpectedly and moving in. Will he have his own place one day?

The moment of truth arrived. The door slid and the two former partners were one more time face to face.

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters. Property of Cowlip.


	2. Chapter 2

"Hi."

"Hi."

Silently, Brian removed himself from the door, moving to the side.

Silently Justin entered.

"Hum, the box is over there". Brian went to the dinner table and Justin followed.

Justin's hand was going for the box when Brian stopped him.

"Look, I don't really know what to say…"

"It's alright. I don't either. It's not like we're never going to see each other again. You'll keep on coming at the diner and we'll eat at Deb's…"

"Not me. I'm banned, remember."

"Oh… well, I'm sure it won't last."

Brian snorted.

"Hum, thanks for packing."

"Wait", persisted the older man when Justin went one more for the box.

The blond patiently waited - at least that's how it seems from the outside, because on the inside, Justin was screaming. He couldn't wait. He had to go now or he'd leave running without his belongings.

"While I was doing this treasure hunt, gathering your shi… stuff …"

Shit, why did he keep on doing that? The truth was; it was a habit. From the beginning he had called Justin's things "shit". At that time it may have been what he thought, but not anymore. Seeing Justin's things in his loft was not something he dreaded or that annoyed him. It was even the opposite.

He went on: "I came to the conclusion that I didn't like it."

"My stuff?" Justin asked, shared between hurt and anger.

"Gathering your stuff. "

The blond looked at him, a bit lost, and Brian was feeling lost himself. He hadn't prepared a speech but maybe he should have -not that Justin's eyes would have allowed him to enunciate properly anyway.

"You said I treated you like crap and you were right. I did. I shouldn't have but I did and despite what you may think, it wasn't easy. It hasn't been easy for me to hurt you."

"Are you … are you saying you did it on purpose… to hurt me?", Justin asked, the level of his voice dropping at each word.

"I guess. Maybe. I don't know. I was angry. At first I thought I was angry at you, because you put your nose in my business, but now I think I was mostly angry. I just took it on you. It's easier to be angry than… "

"Scared?"

"I'm not scared. Shit, I'm not some sissy faggot!"

"Everyone is scared once in a while. I'm scared for you."

At that, Brian looked into Justin's eyes and he couldn't suppress his surprise or his love from showing on his face.

"I'll be fine."

"You don't know that. But I'm sure you will", Justin rapidly added, not standing to even express his fear out loud.

Brian gave him a small smile.

"It's not just the way you treated me after you found out that I knew. It's the fact that you didn't even bother telling me what was happening. I'm your… I was your partner. It hurts that you didn't trust me."

"I trust you."

"No you don't or you'd have told me. You must think I'm an idiot if you even thought for one second that I wouldn't notice something was wrong."

"You're not an idiot, I never thought you were stupid. It's just that…"

"That what?"

"It's just that it's easier if you don't know."

"Why would it be easier?"

"Brian?"

The older man glanced everywhere in his loft, searching for any kind of an exit.

"Telling you makes things real", he finally said, voice strong, eyes pointedly staring into Justin's.

The young man was at a loss for words.

"It was easier with you not knowing and me trying to look for excuses than you knowing and trying to make everything better."

"Why would that be bad? Why helping you would be so bad?"

"You helping me bothers me. I bet as soon as you heard the message you called every services, doctors, went on the internet, even maybe at the fucking library, reading everything with the word "cancer" and "testicle" in it."

Justin couldn't restrain a smile.

"Yeah, Sunshine, I'm sure it was _hard_ for you, looking at all those pictures of cock and balls", Brian smirked before straightening up once more.

"Look I don't need you babysitting me. I'm sure you'll mean well but you making a fuss out of it would not help me."

"I know. I know that; I wasn't going to do that. I didn't!"

Brian arched his eyebrows, unconvinced.

"I didn't!", Justin exclaimed more forcefully. "I didn't say anything, did I? And when you supposedly went to Ibiza, I didn't say anything either. And when you were too tired to even stand up I didn't make a deal out of it. I didn't tell anyone. I didn't even cry in front of you!"

"Christ, Justin", Brian replied in a whisper. "That's exactly why I didn't say anything."

"What, so you didn't have to bear see me cry? Fuck you!", answered a pissed Justin, cheeks flushed.

"So I didn't _make_ you cry!"

They stared at each other for a long moment trying to keep some composure. Justin could see the black circles around Brian's eyes. He still looked beautiful. It was kinda unfair that even in his worst moment the man could look better than most people at their best.

"You're young; you shouldn't have to go through that."

"So are you. And you shouldn't have to go through that either, not alone."

"I'm fine."

"Well I'm fine too", counteracted the blond in his usual stubborn way.

"The fuck you are! You're all red, Sunshine. Stayed too long under the sun?"

"What sun? It's winter. And fuck you! Stop treating me like a kid. I can take care of myself, and if I want to take care of you it's my decision."

"Oh really, don't I have a word to say in it?"

"No, you don't."

Brian Kinney's eyebrows going up, Justin Taylor's joining them.

"Look Justin, I appreciate your… concern but I'll be fine and…"

"You want me gone, I got it."

As Justin turned his back to Brian and started to walk away, Brian shouted in an impulse:

"I can't fuck you."

Justin stopped right in his tracks. He slowly turned towards the older man who was frenetically cursing.

"Wh-wha-what?"

Brian pinched his nose while Justin continued to stammer. Apparently the blond's brain had turned itself off.

"I –can't-fuck-you", Brian repeated, separating every word.

"I didn't come for that!", threw an indignant Justin.

"I didn't mean now, although not know either. I mean, I'm just … shit, I'm too fucking tired and my ball…the fucking scar burns. So I can't fuck you. I don't know for all long…"

"Do you really think it matters? I'm not with you because of the fucking. Yes, it's a big part of our lives and a big part of why I'm crazy about you but it's not all. Or is it for you?"

"Of course not."

"See, it's the same for me. I'm sure once you have your full strength back you'll fuck me into the mattress in no time and harder than ever."

Justin realized what he had just said when Brian looked at him with a smirk and -could it be? - hopeful eyes.

"I mean... if... when... hum..."

"If you could pass the fact that I'm an asshole and that I'll probably puke my guts out for the next few weeks…"

"Well, you'd have to accept that some of my "shi…stuff" hangs around the loft."

"I don't mind your shit, Justin."

It was said with such sincerity that the young man stopped breathing for a second.

"Really?"

The kid like expression that Justin displayed at that moment brought Brian back to a time where he would have done anything to get rid of the kid, even though even back then he didn't do anything. Now the kid had turned into a man and Brian would do anything to not get rid of him.

When Brian nodded, his lips encased in his mouth, eyes dropped to the floor, Justin took a step forward. The taller man opened his mouth to say something but no words came. Justin smiled, surely to make fun of this man who was not able to form coherent thoughts when in front of this younger smaller man.

"You're a little shit, you know that?", asked Brian, taking Justin into his arms, Justin's short hair tickling his neck.

"And you're a big asshole."

Brian could only nod.

XX

XX

Justin stayed that night, the box long forgotten on the table.


End file.
